


bloom (just for you)

by thereisnoreality



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crushes, First Love, Fluff, Future Fic, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27719837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/thereisnoreality
Summary: Jeno's only kissed one person years and years ago. He starts thinking about kissing another one on an unobtrusive Sunday afternoon, a shrouded blanket of clouds drizzling over a strangely sleepy Seoul.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 23
Kudos: 230





	1. Part One: The End of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for the comm yoon!! i’m so sorry this is only the first half but i thought i should give you something for taking so long with this one TT 
> 
> and thank you so much to vicky for helping me out even though you’re so busy, i appreciate you more than i can say <3
> 
> i hope you like this absolutely purely undiluted fluff ^^ the next chapter should be up in a couple of days.

Jeno only slightly regrets yanking off his shirt once the lights have blacked out, and he’s standing there on stage, blanketed by a thousand screams, coming at him from all sides through the now silent in-ears, his heart pounding in time with the rise and fall of the hundreds of tiny fluorescent lights. He stares at the crowd, unseeing, chest heaving, and only feels a tiny lingering bit of embarrassment. Mostly, what remains is just pride for a stage well-performed and the ever-present exhaustion that inevitably accompanies every comeback schedule. 

He starts to regret it a little bit more when they finally jog off stage, ducking under the low-hanging beams and meeting the weary looks of the staff as they take in his bare torso. Jeno becomes aware that he’s sweating quite a lot and shifts, flushing.

“Stop tearing your buttons,” his manager says in an exasperated tone, pulling the now useless shirt hanging around Jeno’s shoulders off and shouldering all of them towards their room. Jaemin’s gleeful cackle reaches him and Jeno pinkens. His manager continues, grumpily, “I’m the one that gets yelled at by the stylists when you pull this shit.”

Well, that was patently untrue. They’ve all been on the receiving end of nasty pin pokes and ugly outfits and more than one stern lecture when clothes get ripped or go missing, or — God forbid — when accessories get stolen for the sake of the ‘aesthetic’ and never returned. The coordi noonas are as vindictive as they are exhausted. And going by the sheer number of coffee cups and caffeine pills littering every changing and fitting room Jeno has ever been in, they’re _very_ exhausted — probably as much as Jeno is at this point. 

But Jeno _really_ starts to regret his decision when no one thinks to hand him a blanket or a shirt, and he’s forced to walk through the winding halls that make up the backstage of the festival they’re playing at completely naked from the waist up. And to add to the nascent humiliation, apparently this is the time everyone absolutely needs to be out milling about in the hallways and Jeno flushes, trying to hunch over himself as he avoids the judgmental gazes of other groups.

“Feeling frisky today, huh?” Jaemin laughs when they finally duck into their changing room, kicking the door shut behind him just to spite Jisung, who barely manages to catch it from slamming into his face with a loud protest. 

“Shut up,” Jeno mutters, yanking off his mic pack and in-ears to hand them to his manager so he can get changed. 

“Ten minutes,” their manager calls. “We need to be on the road in _ten minutes_ ,” he glares at Jaemin. “Did you hear that? No sneaking off to find coffee. _Ten. Minutes._ ” 

Jaemin pouts. “It’s like you have no faith in me, hyung,” he says, cheerfully yanking off his own pants. 

“You _were_ thirty minutes late today,” Jisung points out and Jaemin makes a face at him, tossing his clothes at him. Jisung neatly sidesteps it. 

“There was traffic.”

“You live _fifteen minutes_ from the company. You have a car!”

Jaemin waves a hand, stripping off his shirt with frightening efficiency in the same motion. “Semantics.”

Jeno tunes them both out in favour of yanking on his favourite hoodie, taking a deep breath when it finally settles around him, hiding his flushed torso from the rest of the world. He yanks the hood up over his head, grimacing when the hairspray crunches audibly. That’s going to be a bitch to wash out tonight. 

“Okay, let’s go, come on,” their manager ushers them, hands spread out like a sheepdog trying to herd his flock to the correct pen. But honestly, given the amount of times one of them has wandered off in search of coffee — Jaemin — or the bathroom — Jeno — or just fallen asleep in a random corner underneath the large bags that carried all their outfits and been left behind — Jisung — it’s probably the right move to make. Somehow, when their group had shrunk in half, things had only gotten more chaotic. 

Jeno’s phone pings when he settles into his seat, letting Jaemin take shotgun as always.

[chill-dream]

**chocoball**

were back bitches

There’s a picture of a tarmac through a rain slicked window and Jeno peers up at the sky only to discover it was raining. He had not realised that. 

[chill-dream]

**makgeolli**

we’re 

and dont swear

**haechandle**

fuck off

**injun**

where were u this time

**haechandle**

who can remember

all of america looks the same

**makgeolli**

houston

**nana <333**

and we care.. why?

**haechandle**

WELL 

i was gonna pay for bbq tonight

but if you’re gonna be a bitch about it

:)

you can starve

**sungie**

im in

**injun**

of course you are

is jeno dead

**jenyesjam**

im sleeping

**haechandle**

very convincing 

chenle you in 

There’s no reply and Jeno glances up at the rest of the car as if the others will be able to give him in an answer. They’re all bent over their phones, save for their manager who’s driving, humming to himself as he taps along to the song playing on the radio. Jeno hides a smile and flicks back to his chat. Everyone’s read it but Chenle, the little bubble still hanging on the side of the message. Jeno stares at it longer than he should. 

**injun**

hes taking a cat nap

A picture of Chenle, curled up under his hideous faded hoodie on the instantly recognisable floor of their practice room, eyes shut tightly against the lights and frowning as if he’s aware, even in sleep, of the invasion of privacy. 

An unrecognisable warmth fills Jeno’s chest at the sight, and without even thinking about it, he presses down on the picture and saves it. 

Rain spatters against the car window and Jeno leans his head against it, closing his eyes. He doesn’t remember where they’re headed next, but he’s sure it’s going to be exhausting, especially with Jisung and Jaemin in the mood they are in today. 

**injun**

im assuming a yes from him too

**haechandle**

see u losers tonight

jaemin dont be fucking late 

or im not paying for you xx

**nana <333**

you can’t tell me what to do bitch (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

Later that night, Jeno is sitting on the curbside in his apartment’s garage, fiddling with his phone and waiting for Jaemin to show up. They’d all slowly moved out from the dorms, one by one, as their groups started to pull apart. Sometimes, Jeno misses it; other times, he remembers the hell of trying to sleep while Donghyuck and Jisung tried to kill each other via tiny avatars while sitting mere inches away from him. Then, Jeno appreciates his single, solitary, _quiet_ apartment with all his heart. 

He absentmindedly flicks to his pictures, slowly scrolling through the cluttered camera roll to see if there was anything worth posting to Instagram — made only after extreme duress from Jaemin — when he comes upon the picture of Chenle that he’d saved earlier that day. 

Jeno considers it. He has plenty of pictures of all of his members, most of them terribly unflattering — if anyone wanted to destroy the NCT brand, all they needed to do was hack into one of their phones with the number of compromising pictures they all have of each other — but this is not a particularly unbecoming photo. Cute, if Jeno was honest with himself. But there was rarely a time when Jeno did not consider Chenle cute.

The sound of a car rumbling down the long length of the garage has Jeno looking up. He gets up off the curb, dusting off his pants as Jaemin’s black car pulls up next to him, the heavily tinted window rolling down to reveal a shark’s smile partially hidden under a bucket hat. 

“Get in, loser,” Jaemin calls cheerfully with the cadence of a quote. Jeno doesn’t know what he’s talking about though, so he ignores it and walks around the front of the car to slide into his passenger seat. 

“I can’t believe you bought this car,” Jeno says as he settles into the butter smooth leather sheets. 

“You say that every time.” Jaemin pulls out of the parking garage, flicking the radio back on as he turns onto the streets. He’d bought the car after his last drama. It had been a hit, and for weeks and weeks all Jeno had been able to see was Jaemin’s glowering face peering out at him from every bus advertisement and billboard. 

“Yeah, because I still can’t believe it.”

“It’s a nice car.”

“That’s why I can’t believe it.”

Jaemin snorts. “I can’t believe you bought an apartment.”

Jeno rolls his eyes even as a smile plays around his lips. Jaemin had been so very miffed that Jeno had been the first one to move out of the dorms — the exception being Chenle, who had left a long time ago — leaving him behind alone with Jisung and Renjun.

The DJ comes back on the radio, her voice low and soothing as she cues up the next song. “This one is perfect for those cool summer nights, just like this one,” she says gently as the sound of an acoustic guitar starts up. Jeno recognises it as Oohyo, an artist that Renjun loves to play when it’s raining or when he’s feeling particularly sentimental. He tips his head against the window and listens to Jaemin chatter about his upcoming audition, watching the rain spatter against the dark glass, slipping out of view faster than Jeno can catalogue it.

The restaurant is packed to the brim when they arrive, full of people and music and loud laughter, accompanied by the clink of cutlery and glasses, shots being slammed onto the table with a gusty groan. Jeno sheds his jacket immediately, peeling himself out of the leather before it can stick to his skin in the worst way. 

“There,” Jaemin jerks with his chin. In the corner table sit their members, bucket hats pulled low over their heads. 

“They look idiotic,” Jeno murmurs as they weave around the cramped tables and Jaemin barks a laugh. 

“You all look idiotic,” he says as a greeting when they reach the table and a chorus of boos shoot back at them. 

Mark gets up to let Jaemin slide in, all the way beside Donghyuck who raises his eyebrow at him when Jaemin curls his fingers around his thigh, high enough for anyone to notice. None of them bother paying any attention to it; Jaemin and Donghyuck were like that sleep paralysis demon hanging around in the corner of your room. If you paid it no attention, it simply ceased to bother you. 

Renjun shoots Jeno a pained look from where he’s squished in the corner, totally ignored by Donghyuck and Jaemin as they continue their weird mating ritual of silence and wandering hands in inappropriate places.

“Sit here, hyung,” Jisung says and slides out to let Jeno slip in between him and Chenle. 

“You just want to make me cook everything,” Jeno accuses and Jisung grins brightly at him as he sits back down, handing over the tongs. 

“You’re the best, hyung.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure you say that to anyone who cooks for you.” Jeno glances over at Chenle with a little smile. “Been a while.”

“Only if you’re counting, hyung,” Chenle says lightly, but he grins at Jeno, eyes crinkling up under his fried, newly-dyed bangs. Jeno wants to brush his hair out of his eyes, wants to see that smile better, but he keeps his hands to himself. It really has been too long.

They order more meat and soju, more than they could eat, as the conversation carries on, jumping from topic to topic with no warning. Chenle’s thigh is a comforting weight against his own and more than once, the force of his giggles sends his body careening into Jeno’s and he looks up at him, eyes sparkling under the force of his laugh. Every time, Jeno smiles back and hopes Chenle can’t feel the way his heart stutters against his chest.

Jeno dutifully takes over the grilling as the night wears on. He doesn’t mind it; it just gives him the opportunity to listen, occasionally leaning over to let Donghyuck steal more meat than he’s allowed to, because why not. It’s been a while since they’ve all gotten together, all of them scattered across the world for the last couple of months, and even longer before that when they were all in the same building but confined to separate practice rooms.

By the time they leave the restaurant, it’s obvious that they’re all, with the exception of Jeno, wildly tipsy. Even Jisung is draped over a pink-faced Renjun, giggling to himself as he scrubs at his face. 

Jeno looks at all of them and sighs. “Okay, how are you getting home?” 

“I can’t drive,” Jaemin announces, holding up his car keys. Jeno snatches them from his grip before he can even blink. 

“I’ll take you home,” he says exasperatedly, before eyeing Donghyuck, whose hand is digging so tightly into Jaemin’s arm, it’s a wonder it hasn’t caved to the pressure yet. “And Donghyuck too, I guess.”

Donghyuck perks up, a grin stretching over his mouth before leaning into Jaemin’s space, whispering something in his ear. Going by the way Jisung pales and scoots away from them, Jeno’s glad he’s too far away to hear it. 

“I’ll call a cab,” Mark says, the most sober of the tipsy lot. He nods at Jisung and Renjun. “And I’ll take them.”

“Great,” Jeno says, relieved to have Renjun off his hands. He tends to get argumentative when he’s drunk. Argumentative and sleepy. It’s a handful to deal with, and Jeno simply does not have the energy to try and cart Renjun all the way back to his apartment while fighting him the whole way. 

By the time Jeno gets them loaded into a cab, peeling Donghyuck’s hand off Jaemin’s ass several times before anyone can see, he’s well and truly exhausted. He shoves Donghyuck and Jaemin into the backseat of Jaemin’s ridiculous car and leans his head against the cool metal, heaving a huge sigh.

“Let me drive,” Chenle offers and Jeno peers over at him, peeling his face from the car’s top. Chenle waggles his fingers. “I didn’t drink.” 

“I was watching you,” Jeno says, narrowing his eyes. He could have sworn Chenle had downed more than a couple shots tonight.

Chenle rolls his eyes. “Clearly not very closely then. I’m hurt, hyung,” he says blandly and snatches the car keys from Jeno’s fingers before he can protest, rounding the car and peering over the top at Jeno. “I didn’t touch a drop. Renjun’s an idiot, we have to be at the gym for training at like six in the morning tomorrow.” 

Jeno gives in and slides into the passenger seat. “Fine. Go ahead. I hate driving Jaemin’s car anyway.”

“I know,” Chenle says simply, shutting the door behind him. They drive to Jaemin’s apartment in relative silence, only broken by Donghyuck’s drunken giggles as Jaemin does god knows what to him in the backseat. Jeno’s too afraid to turn around and look. 

“I’m stealing your car,” Chenle informs Jaemin when they drop him and Donghyuck off at his apartment.

Jaemin waves him off, stumbling a little on the curb before he catches himself. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t crash it.”

“No promises.” Chenle smiles sweetly, and Jeno can see the gears start to turn in Jaemin’s drunken head as he opens his mouth to protest before Chenle pulls away, laughing. 

“Do you want to just stay at my place?” Jeno offers, glancing down at his phone. “It’s late. And I can get the car back to Jaemin tomorrow.”

Chenle shrugs. “Okay,” he says, turning the car towards Jeno’s apartment. 

Jeno’s very thankful he’d cleaned earlier that week when he pops in his security code and lets Chenle in ahead of him. It’s not like Chenle is blind; they _had_ lived together for a time and Jeno had hardly been a clean teenager, just as he hardly is a clean adult. But it feels good to show off his space and have it be clean. 

Especially since it’s been a while since Chenle last visited. 

“Here,” Jeno holds out a clean pair of sweats and an old shirt of his. “You want something to drink or something?” 

“You want to drink more?” Chenle asks, raising his eyebrows at Jeno. “Don’t you have schedules or something tomorrow?”

“I meant water,” Jeno says, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Or like… Juice.”

“Juice,” Chenle echoes in amusement, and Jeno flushes. 

“Shut up,” he mutters, flinging the clothes at Chenle who laughs and bounds over to the bathroom.

Jeno tidies up his kitchen while Chenle changes before he heads back to his sofa just as Chenle finishes changing. They’re about the same size, so Jeno’s clothes don’t dwarf him, but something sharp slices through Jeno’s gut at the sight of Chenle in his clothes, the threadbare shirt dipping low enough that his collarbones are on full display, his hair ruffled adorably.

“How’s filming going?” Jeno asks quietly. “New show and all that.”

Chenle tucks his legs up to his chest and props his chin on his knees. “It’s going,” he says, voice muted. “It never really changes.”

“Is it weird though?” 

Chenle considers. He bites his lower lip as he thinks about it, looking at the sofa while Jeno looks at him. “Yes,” he admits finally. Getting Chenle to admit anything, to even talk about his feelings beyond a vague affirmation or denial always feels like pulling teeth, so Jeno treats this as a small victory. “I keep looking up and expecting to see you or Donghyuck hyung there. Or Jisung right next to me. It’s… It’s weird.” He falters then adds. “Not that it’s not nice — being in China is really fun and all the other trainers are nice to me and I’m happy they like me there but… It’s weird. I’ve gone solo before but this is just...” His lower lip pushes out as he trails off and Jeno has to curl his hands under his thighs. It would just be weird if he reached out to touch it.

“Same,” he agrees instead. He and Jisung and Jaemin have been promoting by themselves for only a few weeks now but they’ve been practicing for the comeback for a lot longer and they still haven’t gotten used to it. Before — way before any of this even happened — when they were seven of them, in a small room with wallpaper that looked like the sky plastered all over the walls, when Mark and Donghyuck disappeared every other day to do 127 stuff, even back then it had been strange. It had been odd to suddenly see seven dwindle to five even if it quickly bounced back to normal before they even registered the strangeness of the empty spots.

But then, the absences had gotten more and more permanent and they had gotten used to it, to mostly being five. 

And now they had shrunk again. Like atoms pulled away from their cores, spinning in opposite directions, vanishing into the depths of the universe. 

It’s odd, a bit like heartache if Jeno thinks too deeply about it.

When Jeno slips into bed, Chenle’s already curled up and facing him, cat eyes gleaming in the dark, the moonlight spilling down over his bared collarbone, the sharp arch of his jaw, the puffiness under his eyes. Looking so, so young and so old at the same time. 

“Go to sleep, hyung,” Chenle mumbles, eyes drifting shut even under Jeno’s gaze. Jeno’s not sure what his face is doing but Chenle’s gaze is too gentle for it to be anything but embarrassing.

He swallows and pulls the covers over himself. “Yeah,” he agrees softly and drifts to sleep under a warm, fading smile from Chenle and the steadying beat of his breath, and the pound of Jeno’s blood, too loud in his ears to be ignored.

Jeno dreams of Chenle. 

It comes in snatches, just mirages floating by him and dissolving in his fingers when Jeno tries to grasp at them, like gauzy curtains floating in the breeze. He feels a pressure on his shoulders, his thighs, and when Jeno opens his eyes, tips his chin up, there Chenle is, lips curved in a broad grin as he settles on Jeno’s lap, thighs slung over his own, ivory pale and strong, freckles dotted over high cheekbones from a holiday in China.

Jeno’s eyes flutter shut again when Chenle’s mouth presses over his, too light to be anything but imagined. Something kickstarts in his heart, like a butterfly trapped under the skin.

Chenle laughs and kisses him again, insistent yet still so gentle as if aware that Jeno is completely out of his depth. 

Jeno wakes up.

If anyone asks him, Jeno would never tell them because it would only lead to a whole lot of humiliation on his part and probable, offensive surprise on the questioner’s part, but Jeno’s only ever kissed one person in his whole twenty five and a half years of life. 

Sometimes, he thinks it shouldn’t be that surprising. He’d spent his childhood as… Well, a _kid_. And when he’d grown up enough to even start thinking about things like kissing, and holding the hands of pretty people, he was spending 18 hours a day at school and SM, training to become something far bigger than three syllables of his name ever dreamed to contain. And when he’d properly grown up, when he debuted, became taller, gained a proper jawline and the attention of several more pretty people, then somehow, it had become too late, too embarrassing to admit that he had no experience. To be the bumbling beginner when all his peers had far surpassed him in that realm. 

He remembers watching Donghyuck sneak out of the 127 dorms, ducking into Jaemin’s room while Jisung slept soundly on the couch, as if no one would hear the soft laughter behind the paper thin door, or notice the way Jaemin’s lips were always swollen and the dip of his chest, bared when he bent over the runny egg roll Jeno had managed to prepare in his half-awake state for breakfast, peppered with love bites in the exact shape and size of Donghyuck’s pouted mouth. 

He remembers even _Jisung_ getting numbers shoved into his hand at the hallways in Inkigayo, when he’d actually grown up, looking more like man than kid — though he would always be the youngest, the maknae, in Jeno’s eyes — and remembers watching, not without a mild amount of shock, when Jisung had actually texted some of them back, the tips of his ears bright red, ducked over his phone in the corner of the waiting room as if none of them knew what he was doing. 

His first kiss had been with the only person in the world he would have trusted with it, and if the questioner had pressed him about it, if Jeno had answered the first query, he wouldn’t have been embarrassed to admit who it was. 

There was only one person. Really. 

Jaemin’s birthday during his hiatus had been a quiet, careful affair. Jeno had fought with management for a month beforehand to get him a day off, just _one_ day in the whole year and a half that Jaemin had been gone. It had been a good day, Jeno remembers, even if Jaemin’s face had been pale and withdrawn, despite his cheeks having filled in and the sharp cut of ribs faded with his mom’s cooking. He’d changed, just as Jeno had, but in softer, sadder ways. And Jeno hadn’t known what to do. 

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Jaemin had asked when they returned to his home from the restaurant. Jeno blinked when Jaemin prodded his temple, the memory of the way Jaemin had winced when he’d tried to get up from his chair, breath cutting off and knuckles turning white where he’d clenched them down on the table, shattering under the unyielding press of his fingers. 

“Nothing,” Jeno said, pushing open the door to Jaemin’s room, but not before he cast a final look to the living room where Jaemin’s mother sat, cutting fruit and watching the television. She looked just as tired as her son. 

“Liar,” Jaemin said. “You can’t keep secrets from me, don’t think that just because I’m gone that’s changing.”

He looked up at Jeno, legs criss-cross on his mattress, his leather jacket — a birthday present from Jeno, that he’d spent two months agonising over, wondering whether it was a good present before Donghyuck had walked past him hunched over his laptop, paused, then walked back and hit Add to Cart for Jeno before he could even protest — draped over his shoulders. Even then, without any makeup, the dark circles under his eyes pronounced, he still looked every bit like the idol he’d spent all those years training for, and Jeno’s chest panged. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jeno said, sitting on the floor by Jaemin’s feet. He looked up at him. “Don’t say that.”

Jaemin shrugged, the twist of his mouth pulled into something wry and painful and Jeno just — 

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Jaemin blinked, lashes brushing against the tops of his cheekbones, the grimace falling from his mouth in surprise. “Of course I have,” he said in a tone that implied Jeno should have known this. “I told you.”

Jeno looked down at the floor. His toes press into the mattress and he curled them back towards himself. “I know. I remember.”

“Why?”

Jeno shrugged. “No reason.”

Another pause. It wasn’t as if Jaemin needed to ask, because honestly, when Jeno looked at it — really examined it — they were two sides of the same coin, the two halves of an untaken breath. Jaemin knew Jeno like the back of his hand and Jeno claimed the same. Jaemin didn’t need to ask, but he did anyway. 

“Do you want to kiss someone?”

Jeno shrugged again. “Not particularly,” he said. A lie, and Jaemin knew it. 

He scoffed a little, just a huff of air out of a curled mouth before nudging at Jeno with his toes and squeezing onto the floor with him. The scant inches of height difference disappeared and Jeno blinked rapidly at finding Jaemin so close to him. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Jaemin said, and pressed his finger to the center of Jeno’s forehead, pushing him slightly back. “I can tell. I can always tell.”

“I know.” Jeno looked down at his hands and Jaemin’s hands, observed the difference between them. It’s so odd, how you can spend what feels like forever with one person only to have it ripped away out of the blue. Only to see them months and months later, to be utterly surprised at what you find. At the familiarity and the change. “I think I’m the only one who hasn’t kissed someone yet.” 

Jaemin snorted. “Jisung hasn’t.”

Jeno didn’t argue; if anyone would know the truth about Jisung’s outside activities, it would be Jaemin. “Fine, then. I’m not the last, but it’s pretty damn close.”

Jaemin’s lashes fluttered, the only indication that Jeno has surprised him. “Do you want to kiss someone?” He asked again. 

Jeno looks at him, their eyes locking, and felt his heart stutter to a stop. “No,” he said again. 

Jaemin nodded and then scooted closer, until their knees knocked together and his hand lay on Jeno’s thigh. “Do you want me to kiss you?” He asked, the inflection of his question changing ever so slightly. It meant a world of difference to Jeno though, and Jaemin knew that. 

Jeno swallowed. “Would you?”

Jaemin smiled then, eyes curving up and all his weariness seeming to melt away. “For you?” He asked gently. “I’d do anything, Jeno. You don’t even have to ask.”

Jeno huffed. "Exactly how would you have known otherwise?"

"I know everything," Jaemin said, his eyes warm as his hand cupped Jeno's cheek. "You ready?"

"N-now?" Jeno asked, panicked, and Jaemin laughed.

"If you're not ready, that's fine," he said, going to draw away, but Jeno shook his head, hand clamping onto Jaemin's wrist and holding him there.

"No," he said. "No, it's fine."

Some concern creased Jaemin's face. "You don't have to push it, Jeno. It's just... It's a kiss, but if you want it to be important, if you want it mean something, it can. It's okay to want to wait."

"I'm not delicate," Jeno managed.

"I don't think you are," Jaemin said. His thumb brushed over Jeno's cheek. “I think you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Jeno swallowed. "Please," he said because he was tired of this. Tired of waiting and anticipating. Jeno was too grown up, too experienced to know that he would never had a true first love. Not like in the movies. Not how other people might have. He would probably never feel that flutter of a childish first crush, butterflies waking up from a long slumber in the pit of his stomach. He was tired of waiting and Jaemin was the closest thing to love that Jeno would probably ever get to have. "Jaemin. It's — it's not important but..."

Jaemin nodded. Jeno didn't need to ask, not really. Jaemin always knew. "Okay," he said, before a smile flickered over his chapped lips. Jeno made a mental note to buy him some lip balm before he left in the morning. "Prepare for the best kiss of your life, Lee Jeno."

"It's not as if I have other experience for comparison," Jeno managed before Jaemin laughed and kissed him.

It was simple. Gentle. Just the soft pressure of Jaemin's lips on his own. It was chaste and effortless. Jeno's heart leaped into his throat and did somersaults before plunging to the depth of his ribcage. Jaemin's hand still stroked along his cheek and Jeno inhaled, just shy of a gasp, mouth parting under Jaemin's. He tasted like beef broth and mint gum and the taro from his boba; all in all an odd combination. All of it melted under the very real realisation that Jeno was kissing his best friend.

Jeno was _kissing_ Jaemin.

Jaemin pulled away after what seemed like an eternity, and Jeno exhaled shakily. It seemed his whole body was trembling, alight, like a million little candle wicks fluttering in a wind.

"You okay?" Jaemin asked.

Jeno took a deep breath. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm — I'm good."

Jaemin smiled and slumped against the side of his mattress. "Good to know," he said. He eyed Jeno. "You sure?"

Jeno nodded, resisted the urge to lick his lips. Or touch his lips. "I'm fine. Um — thanks."

Jaemin laughed. "You're welcome, Jeno. Come on, go shower. You have to be back at the company early tomorrow."

Jeno smiled and got up off the floor, following Jaemin to the bathroom. His mouth tingled the whole night, until he fell asleep, curled up against Jaemin, two commas facing each other, tracing Jaemin's tired features with his eyes until weariness took over.

So, Jeno's only kissed one person in his life. He wonders about it at times, wonders if it had been a mistake or if it had come at exactly the wrong time. Because he knows himself, knows the title and image he has grown into, knows his role in the group — more often than not, tied to the state of his abs — but even to himself, it seems odd that so many girls scream over him when Jeno would probably keel over at the thought of doing anything more than kissing another person. Even just at _kissing_ another person if he’s being completely honest with himself.

Maybe he should have been less reticent to give himself away. Sometimes, he thinks about that. Others, he’s perfectly content to be where he is.

Jeno's only kissed one person years and years ago. He starts thinking about kissing another one on an unobtrusive Sunday afternoon, a shrouded blanket of clouds drizzling over a strangely sleepy Seoul. It's his day off, no performances, no half-baked festivals to fly four hours in a stuffy plane for, no relentless arguments between Jaemin and Jisung to mediate.

Jeno wakes up late — well, as late as his body allows him to, which is a measly nine fifteen — to over a hundred texts in the dream group chat, a text from his manager reminding him that he has filming for a variety show with shelter dogs tomorrow, and a message from Chenle.

Jeno rolls over, kicking the curtain open a crack so sunlight floods over his chest. Whenever he visits home, he usually wakes up to Bongsik or Seol on his chest, purring deeply and loudly into his neck. The urge to get a kitten swallows him whole again, but Jeno bats it away before he can start looking up animal shelters. He can't keep a cat, not with his schedule.

Chenle has sent him a picture of the sky over the Han river, a blue grey sunrise. The second picture is of a dog bundled up in a coat as it's led by its owner down the sidewalk. Jeno laughs and taps out a response.

**jenyesjam**

what are you doing up so early?

**thatchenle**

couldn't sleep

you slept in

**jenyesjam**

it's my day off

**thatchenle**

coffee?

**jenyesjam**

you don't have to be anywhere?

**thatchenle**

not till after lunch

we can go to the gym first if you want and then go get food

you menace

**jenyesjam**

you don't have to sound so disgusted

i've seen those muscles (o^ ^o)

**thatchenle**

gross hyung

i refuse to be acknowledged like this

**jenyesjam**

^^

half an hour?

**thatchenle**

fine

The gym is practically empty when Jeno arrives. It's not surprising, given that it is nearly ten on a Tuesday morning, even though most of SM's idols in some shape or form have been seen at this gym.

Chenle is already by the weights, tying his shoes with his back to Jeno when he walks in, tugging his hoodie off and pulling out his airpods. Jeno stops short at the entrance to the weight section, his heart launching into his throat.

He'd already seen Chenle with his tattoos multiple times; Chenle was not shy about his body around the dorms, and after he'd turned 21, it had pretty much been impossible to stop him from getting tattoos. Jeno remembers management giving up, but only under the strict conditions that Chenle was not allowed visible tattoos until he got older.

Now, much older and much more carefree, Chenle's numerous tattoos sit in full view to the world. Jeno follows the curve of his dragon tattoo, bending over the ball of his right shoulder before twisting over the shoulder blade. Chenle shifts and sits up. His tank top slides back into place, the tattoo vanishing.

Several more are on his arms, chest, _hipbone_ , Jeno remembers seeing on one _very_ memorable occasion. It suits him.

"Hey, hyung," Chenle says brightly, meeting Jeno's eyes in the mirror before he twists around to look at Jeno. "It's been a while."

A couple of weeks if Jeno remembers correctly. Chenle had left early the next morning after the barbecue night with Dream, smiling at a still half-asleep Jeno as he'd shut the door behind him. His featuring in Jeno's dreams have only gotten more intense since that night.

Jeno wills himself not to blush. "Aren't you cold?" He asks instead, crossing the floor to sit next to Chenle.

Chenle shrugs and Jeno forcibly tears his eyes away from Chenle's arms. The day Chenle had decided he wanted to start working out had also become the day Jeno had started to embrace cold showers. He's not in the mood to embarrass himself today. "We're going to get sweaty soon," Chenle says casually, pushing back his hair, the black bangs flopping back over his eyes as soon as he drops his hand.

"You need a haircut," Jeno says, fixing Chenle's bangs for him, chest thumping hard when Chenle leans into it ever so slightly, eyes fluttering shut under his touch, like a cat pressing its head in for more pats.

Chenle makes a face at himself when he pulls away, eyeing himself in the mirror. "I’m going to the salon next week before filming," he says, mouth pushing out in a pout that’s more reminiscent of Donghyuck than it is Chenle. Jeno tears his eyes away from the swell of Chenle’s pink mouth and looks at his shoes instead. "I think they want to dye my hair again."

Jeno manages an amused laugh as their trainer enters, a determined, gleeful look on his face that sends a trickle of dread running down Jeno's spine. "What an unheard thing," Jeno teases as they both get up and follow their trainer to the treadmills. "An idol having to dye his hair."

Chenle makes a face at him and Jeno laughs, louder, before they submit themselves to the treadmill for a lung-killing five miles. At least then, he doesn’t have the option of not focusing on himself; even one second looking at Chenle would send him sprawling backwards on the gym floor.

"What the fuck," Jeno says blankly, forty five gruelling minutes later, staring at Chenle, his own bar lying completely abandoned on the floor as Chenle drops his bar, coming out of a deadlift, his face flushed with exertion and sweat trickling down his temple. "When did you become the Hulk?"

Chenle laughs, bright and loud, the noise shattering along the mirrors, the steel and metal of equipment, barely buried over the loud music their trainer likes to put on to encourage more reps. "I started going with Xuxi ge over the summer," he says by way of explanation. "He's insane."

Jeno thinks about Yukhei's build and silently agrees. "And you're allowing yourself to become like him?" He asks, teasing. "I thought you weren't going to allow yourself to be boxed in like that."

Chenle shrugs. "It's fun, with hyung."

Jeno leans in, bracing himself on the frame of the squat rack and makes his eyes as large as he can get. "And what about me?"

Chenle rolls his eyes, tossing his bangs out of his eyes, and that's when Jeno sees it. "Don't try to get a compliment out of me, hyung.” He leans back down, wrapping his fingers around the bar, readying himself for another set. Jeno knows he’s staring, but he can’t tear his eyes away. There, sitting high on the side of Chenle’s neck, is a large hickey, bright purple and red, fully blossomed onto Chenle’s skin. 

A hickey. Jeno isn’t unfamiliar to them, not when he used to live with Donghyuck and Jaemin, but it’s jarring to see it on Chenle. He knows Chenle isn’t a virgin, though he doesn’t remember when he learned that crucial information, but still… 

A noise escapes Chenle as he heaves the bar up, biceps bulging, and Jeno’s eyes snap there instead, like a magnet drawn to the most interesting parts of Chenle’s body, like he’s a canvas on display, the colours constantly shifting, the paint moving under his very gaze, drawing Jeno to a different place every second. The veins in Chenle’s arms bunch up, curving under corded muscle as he lifts the bar, and Jeno’s mouth goes dry. 

“Jeno-yah!” Their trainer barks from the other side of the room, and Jeno whips his head around so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. “Focus or I’m giving you another 2 miles!”

“Sorry,” Jeno calls back, hoping his expression is contrite enough and twists away from Chenle to focus on his own deadlifts. 

Beside him, Chenle snickers under his breath and Jeno bites back the urge to kick him.

Wishes he could kiss him. 

Well… there’s a thought. 

“Okay,” Chenle sighs, setting his coffee down on the table between them with a firm _thud_ , making Jeno look up in surprise. “Are we going to talk about this?”

Jeno blinks in confusion. “Talk about what?” 

Chenle eyes him and then leans over the table, palms flat on the condensation marked wood, between the plates of food they’d ordered. The restaurant isn’t that crowded, even for lunchtime, and they’ve sequestered themselves in the corner, far away from prying eyes, but Chenle’s voice is still low when he says, “About why you can’t stop staring at the hickies on my neck?”

Jeno pauses, freezes entirely, and then sets his coffee down on the table and shoves his hands in his lap to hide their trembling. “What?” Is all he manages. 

Chenle bites his lower lip. “Hyung,” he says, voice softer and less combative than it was a second ago. “Do you have a problem with me—”

“No.”

Chenle stares at him and Jeno stares back. 

“No,” Jeno says again, firmer because there’s no room for misunderstanding, not with Chenle. “There’s no problem. Not — not like that.”

“Then what?”

“I was just…” Jeno swallows his humiliation down. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Chenle eyes him. “You know I’ve fucked people before, hyung. Why is this time any different? It’s just Renjun.”

Jeno blinks at him. “It was Renjun?” That sets something off in his stomach, like his insides are curdling. 

His surprise is mirrored on Chenle’s face. “You didn’t know?”

“No?” Jeno asks, confused. “I didn’t know.” How would he know? It’s not like Renjun is particularly forthcoming about his sex life.

Chenle sits back in his chair. “Oh. Then what’s the problem?”

“There is no problem—”

“Hyung.” Chenle’s voice leaves no room for argument. 

Jeno sighs and feels the humiliation rise up in him. He doesn’t want to admit this, not even close, but Chenle is the sort of person who won’t let an issue go, especially if it’s with them, with his members. He doesn’t like tension, doesn’t like the awkward air that settles around half-finished conversations, and Jeno knows this either ends with him telling the whole truth or in a fight, and he doesn’t want to do the second one. It’s annoying and exhausting fighting with Chenle, and more often than not it’s Jeno giving in and making the first move to an apology.

“I had a dream,” Jeno says and sucks down half of his coffee in a final fit to snatch some bravery from the caffeine and ice before he spits out the rest of the sentence. “Where I — you kissed me. Multiple dreams actually.”

Chenle’s face clears. “Oh,” he says again, face clearing as he contemplates that. “Okay.” There’s a pause where Jeno considers drowning himself in the dregs of his coffee before Chenle says, brightly, “Was it any good?”

Jeno chokes on nothing and Chenle, true to form, cackles, the previous tension vanishing into wisps between them and floating out into the cold morning, dancing away under the strong sunlight that does nothing to stop the prickle of goosebumps popping up on Jeno's arms at the sight of Chenle's laugh. He looks away and picks up his coffee only to discover it is tragically empty.

"Oh, hyung," Chenle coos, tone going honey sweet and leaning over the table to latch freezing hands on Jeno's cheeks. Jeno squirms away but Chenle holds fast, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Come on," Chenle says, eyes warm. "So you wanna kiss me, so what? It's not like you're gonna get any backlash from me."

Jeno stills. "What?" He manages, through still squished lips. "What are you talking about?"

Chenle cocks his head at him. "Hyung," he says, a disbelieving tone creeping into his voice. Jeno tries to glance around to see if anyone has noticed them, noticed Chenle holding his head hostage, but Chenle draws his attention back to him whiplash fast with his next words. "You can't have not known."

Jeno stares at him. "What are you talking about?" He asks, voice tight. "Chenle—"

Chenle laughs a little, sweet coffee breath washing over Jeno's face. "Jeno hyung," he says, shaking Jeno's head in his hands a little. "I've only had the biggest crush on you since I was fifteen."

Jeno blinks once, twice and then the world falls out from underneath him. “ _What_?”


	2. Part Two: The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeno imagines it should be hard, this whole dating thing. 
> 
> He finds none of that with Chenle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> made a few minor edits in chapter one for changed details! nothing big though if you don't want to go back and read it.

Jeno doesn't remember when the line blurred between him and Chenle from being cursory coworkers and tentative acquaintances to full-on, snowballing friends, the kind that reminded Jeno of aching stomachs from laughing too loud and shiny 500 won coins pressed into sweaty palms to buy Melona bars from the neighbourhood convenience store that melted too quickly in the summer sun.

Their friendship wasn't like that, of course — rarely was ice cream involved, with their strict diets — but it was just as strong; forged in front of fogging mirrors and the melody of the squeaks of their shoes, under the same repetitive bass that Jeno would hear in his sleep, in the creak of the showerhead, in the thump of Jisung's heartbeat when he fell asleep on Jeno's bed, his own too full of laundry yet to be folded, and Jeno would press in beside him, too tired to do anything but instantly give into welcome unconsciousness.

Chenle had been a vibrant kid, cheerful and bright as if the language barrier didn't even exist, and Jeno remembered watching him out of the corner of his eyes at the tail end of training — right before that far off dream of debut was set to leap around the corner — and wonder, not without a tinge of jealousy, how someone could be this talented and this happy. Wonder how Chenle had climbed so high in SM's ever-present ladder that he was sitting with those who had been here for years.

The jealousy had faded after debut, because contrary to popular belief, things did not get easier after they debuted — they only got harder, actually. Every night they spent in the practice rooms, tumbling off their hoverboards and badly skinning their knees on the wooden floors, Chenle was right there with them, watching the night bleed into dawn bleed into morning, without a single break.

Jeno doesn't know when the lines really started blurring. They'd settled into their places pretty early on; Donghyuck and Mark were one unit, constantly at each other's throats, constantly disappearing to other schedules Jeno couldn't follow to, Chenle had Renjun, and Jisung and Jeno, as always, had Jaemin.

Then Jaemin had disappeared and Donghyuck and Mark started fighting — proper, awful fighting, the kind of words that cut deep, that bled — and all of the preconceived clusters that had held them together but had also held them apart completely crumbled.

"Hyung," Chenle had sidled up to him, after one particularly excruciating late night practice. His hair was in the process of turning purple and now it was sitting somewhere between a brassy orange and an even more awful yellow, sweaty and stuck to his forehead.

Jeno tore his eyes away from his own reflection, and all the issues with his dancing, the corrections pointing at him like bright red arrows, marking out all the parts that he needed to fix, disappeared into nothing. "What's up, Chenle-yah?" He'd asked, frown falling from his face as he met Chenle's wide eyes.

"Let's go get ice cream," Chenle whispered. Jeno frowned, but Chenle shook his head before he could protest and jerked his chin at the rest of their members. Half of them were asleep on the floor, snatching what little rest they could from the ten minute break and the other half were looking close to it. "We have to practice for a long time," Chenle said, clumsily tripping over the words. "Manager won't be back for another hour. It will be good for everyone."

Jeno cast a glance at the clock and was shocked to see it was nearing dawn. They had to present this part of the choreo soon to their choreographer, and none of them were in the state to do so. Even Mark was fast asleep in the corner.

"Okay," Jeno whispered back, unable to stop the smile that curled over his mouth as Chenle brightened obviously, perking up, a grin widening. "Come on, let's go."

The night air was cold but Chenle's hand was warm where it was clasped around Jeno's, and he grinned up at him, swinging the plastic bag with the six ice cream bars in the other hand.

"Thanks, hyung," he'd chirped. "It's nice outside."

"It is," Jeno agreed, laughing a little when Chenle swung their hands high, following the trajectory of the bag. "Thanks Chenle-yah."

"What for?"

"For taking me out," Jeno said. He felt weirdly light, like the pavement under him was not solid concrete but a trampoline, bouncing him up. "I needed this."

Chenle's smile was bright and a little bit knowing. "Of course, hyung," he'd said, before screwing up his face. "I am a genius after all." And he'd thrown his head back, laughing before skipping ahead, fingers slipping out of Jeno's, and Jeno had watched him go.

So maybe that's where it had started.

Jeno doesn't know for sure, though.

"So," Jeno said, the words catching in the back of his throat. He fiddles with his seatbelt before forcing his hands away. "Is this a date?"

Chenle raises an eyebrow over at him. "Do you want it to be, hyung? I've never been on a date," he adds contemplatively, when Jeno struggles to answer.

"Do you think I have?" Jeno snorts, and instantly regrets it when Chenle eyes him up and down, gaze lingering.

"I'm sure there's a lot of things you haven't experienced, hyung," he says, the words resting deliberately on the edge of his tongue and Jeno stares at him, feeling hot all of a sudden.

He swallows. "The light's green," he says softly.

Chenle breaks their stare and Jeno loses his breath when the car accelerates, pressing him flat against the seat.

They end up at an indoor botanical garden because it’s most likely to be empty in the middle of the day on a Wednesday, and Jeno pays for both their tickets before Chenle can even move.

"Hyung!" Chenle protests.

"You drove," Jeno says insistently, deliberately not meeting the cashier's eyes as she hands him the tickets. "I'm paying."

"This is supposed to be a _date_ ," Chenle hisses, looping their arms together and tugging him out of the way.

"And?" Jeno says, widening his eyes guilelessly when Chenle flatten his gaze at him. "I can't pay?"

"Not if I'm the one taking _you_ out."

Jeno laughs and tugs at Chenle's ear with his free hand. "Don't be pouty,” he says. “You can treat your hyung at any other time.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Chenle says, nose scrunched up and Jeno laughs again.

The date goes marvelously well. Jeno doesn’t know what he’d been expecting but he hadn’t been expecting… _This_.

It’s so easy with Chenle. They’ve always been good friends; Jeno never has trouble keeping up conversation with him, or just hanging out in comfortable silence, but it had always been tinged by the flutter of _something_ in the pit of his stomach, something slowly unearthing itself. And now it was in full bloom, and Jeno wasn’t afraid to reach out and run his hand through Chenle’s hair — he wasn’t cataloguing his moves anymore, wondering how much he could get away with before it got too weird, too noticeable.

The whole garden was pretty much empty when Chenle reaches down to interlace their fingers, looking boldly at Jeno while he did so. Despite the full blush that was making its way to Jeno’s cheeks, hot and incomprehensibly indelible, Jeno doesn’t pull away. He just tightens his grip around Chenle’s fingers and smiles back at him, unable to stop his gaze from flickering to Chenle’s mouth when Chenle licks his lips.

He’s pretty sure it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Jeno asks when Chenle finally turns the radio off, silencing the car. They’re sitting in the underground parking of Jeno’s apartment and they’ve been here so long, the engine has stopped ticking and the seat warmers under Jeno have gone cold.

“Bright and early,” Chenle yawns. “I need to be there for filming the day after tomorrow at like 5 am and they want me to meet the other trainers again before we start formally shooting.”

“And you still decided to go on a date?” Jeno asks, unimpressed. “You need to take better care of yourself. Jaemin isn’t going to be around to wake you up, you know.”

“It was a date with you,” Chenle says, meeting his gaze squarely. “I can catch up on sleep, hyung. This was important.”

And like clockwork, the heat floods to Jeno’s cheeks. “Shut up,” he mutters, shifting in his seat. “How can you just say things like that?”

Chenle smiles a little, tipping his head to the side as he considers Jeno. “I’ve liked you for so long, hyung,” he says, hand finding Jeno’s in the black and shadows, magnets drawn to each other. “It’s kind of unbelievable to me that you’re sitting here right now.”

“Well,” Jeno manages. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No,” Chenle agrees slowly, and somehow, Jeno finds it in himself to tighten his fingers around Chenle’s hand and to lean in slowly, ever so slowly, heart hammering in his throat, until Chenle’s free hand cradles the curve of his jaw. “Hyung,” he whispers, minty breath from his gum washing over Jeno’s face, and Jeno just knows he’s going to remember this for the rest of his life.

Jeno’s second kiss is soft, gentle, and it threatens to shake his world off its axis.

Chenle keeps it shallow, doesn’t move in as much as Jeno thought he might, but it still makes him tremble when he feels his lips move against Jeno’s, fingers pressing in ever so slightly on Jeno’s cheekbone, tilting him closer.

When they pull away, Jeno’s breathing is unsteady and whatever air is left in his lungs falls out of him when he sees Chenle’s gaze on him, eyes shimmering in the dark and his lips slightly glossy.

“You sure you have to go to China?” Jeno murmurs without thinking about it, unable to tear his eyes away from Chenle. He wants to kiss Chenle again, wants to press into him, wants to feel everything Chenle is willing to give him and tuck it under his breastbone where no one else will ever get to take it.

Chenle laughs a little. “Unfortunately,” he says. “But if you want, we can kiss until then.”

“I want,” Jeno whispers, wrapping his hand around the back of Chenle’s neck, fingers sliding into the ends of his growing hair. It tickles his knuckles and Jeno’s fingers twitch against his neck. “I want very much.”

Chenle is far more experienced than him — that much is clearly a given — but his fingers still flutter against Jeno’s cheek when he kisses him, when Jeno tilts his head to deepen the kiss, as best he can. He still breathes shallowly when they part to take a breath and his heartbeat matches Jeno’s, fluttering, flitting in between dark, mossy trees, a butterfly glowing in the quiet night, in the spaces between their lips. He still looks as dazed as Jeno feels, eyes glinting in the dark, shimmering with want and _something_ Jeno doesn’t know how to decipher just yet.

When he finally gets to bed, Jeno puts his fingers to his mouth, holding his breath. His lips are swollen and they tingle against the touch, whispering the tattoo of Chenle’s name against the pads of his fingers until he falls asleep, heartbeat hammering in the hollow spaces between his ribs.

Jeno imagines it should be hard, this whole dating thing. What little experience he has comes from whatever tidbits of information he has gleaned from his members over the past years, a heap of kdramas, and whispered rumours between the shadows of waiting rooms and the sweat-tinged humid air of backstage. They have taught him that relationships — as an idol, _especially_ as an idol dating another idol — are hard. They are time-consuming, difficult, filled with petty arguments and botched dates. That the bad often outweighs the good — more than often, given that all of his friends are currently single, with the sole exception of whatever Donghyuck and Jaemin are doing — and that it’s just easier, for now, to be single.

He finds none of that with Chenle.

Sure, he’s in China for the whole time, filming long hours and shooting variety shows when he’s not filming as a trainer, but somehow it doesn’t seem to strain the space between them — no matter how distant it seems. Jeno texts him when he can, in between the rushed moments of his comeback season and Chenle responds when he can, selfies sent between them, blurry and rushed, the stubble a smudged shadow on Chenle’s chin when it’s too late to do anything but smile at his screen. Jeno manages to sneak a mirror pic when they’re somewhere in Bangkok for a Kpop festival, feeling just cocky enough to send Chenle the shot, abs glinting in the bright white of the makeup lights and his hair still untouched by the hair stylists, a fluffy black cloud sitting atop his head.

He panics and regrets it instantly, thumb hovering over the picture and wondering whether he should delete it before Chenle can see before the text comes in.

**thatchenle**

hyung

**jenyesjam**

chenle

**thatchenle**

i can’t believe you

Jeno smiles down at his phone as Chenle sends an outraged cat sticker. The panic disappears in an instant and is immediately replaced with a sense of longing. It possibly cannot be this simple, or this easy. Or this fast. It shouldn't be this hard to be away from Chenle so quickly.

There's no response until late at night when Jeno is his bathroom, rinsing off the last of his tedious skincare. His phone rings and Jeno fumbles for it, grimacing with one eye shut as a sneaky soap sud slips into his eye.

"Yeah?" He says, answering the video call, half blind.

A laugh rings throughout the bathroom and Jeno jumps to lower the volume before he annoys his neighbours.

"Hyung," Chenle says. "You look ridiculous."

"So do you," Jeno grunts automatically, propping his phone up against a random bottle of toner before he finally leans down to rinse the soap out of his burning eye. It's a lie.

When he finally opens his eyes fully to see Chenle, he looks anything but ridiculous — lounging against a typical hotel bed headboard with his hair pushed off his face with a white fluffy headband and the faint shadow of stubble lingering on his chin. Jeno grabs his towel and dries his face, finally exiting his bathroom to his dark bedroom. "How was filming?"

Chenle hums. "Fine. They're all cute kids."

Jeno smiles. "You were once a cute kid too," he teases. "Now look at you, all grown up."

"I could say the same for you, hyung," Chenle says, his voice drifting across the realm of pleasant to something darker. Jeno drops down on his bed and lifts his phone over his head. He doesn't bother turning on the light, enough of it pours in from the street that he can see himself in the video.

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Chenle adds. "I can't believe you sent that. In the middle of the _day_."

Jeno shrugs, forcefully throwing off whatever shyness automatically rises to his cheeks. "I thought you might like to see," he says, trying to sound as unbothered as he possibly can even as Chenle's gaze obviously darkens, trying to hone on him in the low light.

"And what were you going to do after that?" Chenle asks and Jeno pauses. Considers.

There's a lot of ways he could take this — too many ways. He doesn't want to push too fast, doesn't want to come off as too eager — even though the thought of getting under Chenle is all that has been rattling at the back of his mind — and he doesn't want to make Chenle uncomfortable. Especially when they're so far apart, it would be hard to eke out a serious conversation.

His pause must last too long because Chenle's shifting, eyebrows drawing together in concern. "Hyung, I didn't mean—"

"I want to do," Jeno pushes out with not a small amount of trepidation. "What — whatever you want to." This time the blush hits him with full force and it's all Jeno can do to keep the phone trained on his face even as his cheeks pinken.

Chenle stops. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Jeno's heart thunders in his chest; too loudly, it's a surprise Chenle can't hear it all the way in China. "You want to know what I wanted to do?" He asks and there's a moment in which in the world seems to come to a stand still, and Jeno can hear the car horns beeping outside his window, and a bird chips somewhere to the left and down the hall, a door slams shut. And then, Chenle starts talking and the world absolutely melts away, narrowing down to a single pinpoint. "I wanted to get on the next plane out and jump you."

Jeno's blood floods away from his cheeks and starts thundering in another direction entirely. "Yeah?" He asks.

"Yeah," Chenle says. "You looked stupidly hot, hyung." He swallows. "So fucking good." He bites his lip. "But we shouldn't do this. Not now anyway."

Disappointment washes over Jeno but he understands. "Not a good idea huh?" He asks ruefully. It probably wouldn't be the height of tradition to have sex for the first time over a phone, but Chenle looks good enough that Jeno is tempted enough to try.

"I want to wine and dine you first, hyung" Chenle tells him, mouth curling up before his tone dips into something more serious. "And then I want to show you exactly what I've been thinking about for the last five years."

When the screen goes black and the world rushes back into full technicolour, Jeno shoves his hand down his pants and shatters apart embarrassingly fast at the thought of Chenle backing him up against the bed, with whiskey dark eyes and having his way with him.

Chenle comes back from China for two days to shoot some promotional video for SM and Jeno doesn't realise until he gets a text from Chenle — a picture of him in full hair and makeup with one of their managers in the back.

He gets a call right as he's getting out of practice, Jaemin latching onto Jisung in the back, making him shriek in supersonic volumes to get out of his death grip. "Are you free, hyung?" Chenle demands as soon as Jeno answers, darting away before Jaemin can advance on him as well.

Jeno laughs, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. "Hello to you too," he says.

"Who cares about that?" Chenle says blandly. "It's been two weeks, I want to see you."

Jeno catches sight of his reflection in the mirror and the pinks floods his cheeks harder when he realises he's blushing. "So cool, Chenle-yah," he teases to cover up the fact that anticipation has started to hammer at his heart, making his fingertips tingle. "I'm on the third floor. We just finished practice."

"Meet me for dinner." Chenle's voice morphs into a slight whine. It only makes Jeno's smile grow wider. "I want to see you, hyung." It's all bald honesty and simplicity. Every time Jeno thinks he cannot possibly be more endeared by Chenle, he's proven wrong.

They meet at a small gopchang restaurant by the company that Jeno only knows because of how often Donghyuck sings its praises, dragging someone along with him whenever he's back in Seoul. Chenle looks unforgivably good in the low light, even with his natural state hidden under layers of foundation and hairspray.

God, Jeno wants to kiss him so badly.

"Hi," he says, instead of shoving Chenle flat against the nearest horizontal surface and sticking his tongue down his throat like he's been thinking of doing since Chenle had driven away after their first date, leaving Jeno standing in the parking garage of his apartment building shuddering, but not with cold.

Chenle's eyes gleam when he looks up, smile crinkling up wide and broad. "Hi, hyung," he says, and it's so blatantly tender it has Jeno blinking a couple of times in surprise before his cheeks automatically colour. "It's been too long."

"Three weeks."

"That's too long," Chenle says and his eyes lock onto somewhere south of Jeno's nose blatantly and Jeno kicks him lightly under the table.

"Stop that," he admonishes. The restaurant might be mostly empty but there's still people milling about, always a fan or two hidden in the shadows with a camera aimed at them. Chenle just grins at him, unrepentant until the end. Jeno rubs at his nose, covering his face to will the blush away before he says, softer. "I missed you too."

The look Chenle levels at him sends a fire sputtering to life in the pit of Jeno's stomach.

He barely tastes the food the whole time.

"I can't stay the whole night," Chenle says, panting against his mouth as Jeno shoves his jacket off, flinging it somewhere into the kitchen as Chenle presses him down on the couch, straddling his thighs. "I've got to be back at company early in the morning and then I'm back on a flight for—"

"Less talking," Jeno demands, groaning half in annoyance at having to let Chenle go again and half because Chenle had just ground down against his very interested dick.

"Hyung," Chenle says in a helpless laugh, kissing him deeper. "Fuck, I like you _so_ much."

Jeno blinks and then his hands curve around Chenle's cheeks, pulling them apart a little.

Chenle looks at him, a little dazed, his eyes glimmering so pretty and lips glossy — from Jeno. It's hard to contain the swoop of excitement, of butterflies, that Jeno still gets whenever he looks at Chenle. It's hard to believe that _this_ is something he gets to have, that this is something that's finally coming true after so long of wondering and wishing to a nameless star. "I like you too," Jeno says hoarsely, cheeks burning. "So fucking much." On instinct, he kisses Chenle's nose and Chenle blushes in full bloom, poinsettias flowering on his cheeks.

It hurts a little, when Chenle finally has to go, peeling himself off Jeno when it nears one in the morning, hair absolutely wrecked with the number of times Jeno had run his hands through it. Jeno is still half hard, but he doesn't ask and Chenle doesn't push. It's a silent agreement between them, that this isn't to be rushed. That this is something special, something tender. Something Jeno wants to wait for.

Chenle pulls his hat on, bangs shoved over his eyes, hand on the doorknob, about to leave. Their eyes lock and then Chenle's leaping at him again, slamming his mouth against Jeno's in a way that's almost painful but Jeno makes up for it by pushing Chenle against the door and leaving a bright red hickey on his neck, nestled amongst all the others. His hat ends up on the floor.

"I'm going to get yelled at for this," Chenle mumbles almost twenty minutes later when Jeno finally pushes him away. It's not responsible for either of them to be up this late when they both have schedules in a few hours.

"Good," Jeno says, kissing him one last time before regretfully taking a full step back so as to not be tempted by Chenle again. "You deserve it for distracting me like this."

"You like me though," Chenle says, the words a rounded, delighted crow in his red bitten mouth.

"Yeah," Jeno admits and it comes so easy like this, when he's got the evidence of Chenle's reciprocation splattered all over him in half bitten kisses and red lines scored down the sides of his ribs, tingling, sparking all over. "I really do."

It takes Jeno two days after Chenle leaves before he starts thinking. It takes him a week to actually verbalise it to other people.

"You should do it," Jaemin says with a implied _duh_ in his tone as if this should be obvious. "You've got money, we're done with promotions in like a week, and you know he'd like it."

They both look at Jisung in one synchronised move and it takes him a moment to notice, looking up from his phone with wide eyes. "What?"

"Is it a good idea?" Jeno asks, feeling the sudden urge to wring his hands. He usually isn't this anxious about much of anything but this absolutely has to go right.

Jisung blinks at him. "I don't know hyung," he says with such an obvious tone that Jeno makes a face at him, all his anxiety dropping in favour of that special brand of exasperation that Jisung always manages to draw out of him. "You're the one dating him."

Jeno rolls his eyes. "You're useless."

Jisung shoots him a bland smile. “It’s all I ever wanted to be, hyung.”

Beijing is freezing.

The sky is a pale ice blue, and the weather is similarly so, his breath freezing in little clouds of mist in the air, and hanging there, as he draws another breath. Jeno hadn’t expected it to be as cold as it was and he ducks his nose into his collar, shrugging it up as high as it will go. It proves as a good cover from the random people that already have their phone cameras pointed at him. Jeno tilts his umbrella lower, covering his head and ducks into the van that’s waiting by the sidewalk.

“Chenle’s still filming,” Youngjae hyung says. “He’ll be there a couple of hours more.”

Jeno shrugs. “That’s cool. Wanna go exploring, hyung?”

Youngjae hums his acquiescence. “Why Beijing, though? Chenle will be back in Seoul in a month or so anyway.”

Jeno glances at his manager sideways before looking back out the window. Somehow, all airports all over the world looked the same, no matter how hard they tried to set themselves apart. "I was just bored," he says. "Figured I'd come bother Chenle for a bit."

"You just finished comebacks," Youngjae points out but he only sounds amused. He sighs a little. "You're always moving, Jeno. How do you even have the energy?"

Jeno huffs a small laugh. It's easy, somehow, to keep moving when it's for Chenle. "Sheer willpower, hyung," he says instead of voicing that frankly disgusting thought out loud and Youngjae returns his laugh before he turns on the radio.

The sky is so very blue.

Jeno somehow persuades Youngjae to go to the markets in the city, and pulls on a mask and hat to hide his vivid hair. There's a good chance he won't be recognised but there's also an equal chance that he might be and Jeno wants nothing less than for his entire trip to be plastered all over the internet for strangers to comment and speculate on.

The afternoon has done little to warm up the air, but the markets are bustling anyway. It's the weekend and there are families bustling about, pockets of steam rising from the roadside food stalls, and the vivid colours of the fruit perched at precarious heights provides a colourful rainbow that Jeno cannot stop turning his head to look at. The air smells delicious. Delicious and cold.

Jeno buys a couple of steamed buns and falls into step with Youngjae again, warming his hands with the heat from the buns as they stroll along the market.

"It's a beautiful city," Youngjae murmurs.

Jeno agrees silently. He thinks about Chenle and his fingers tingle in anticipation. It hasn't even been a full fortnight and he's already aching, bursting at the seams, to see him again.

Jeno doesn't know what lies Youngjae and the other manager accompanying Chenle during filming had told him to get him to the hotel but it clearly hadn't involved Jeno because his phone stays silent the whole night.

He gets back to the hotel in the late reaches of the afternoon, and takes a much needed shower before changing into comfier clothes and falling onto the bed. He could drag Youngjae out again to see what little of the city he could before Chenle arrived but Youngjae had looked plainly exhausted and so Jeno amuses himself by flicking through the channels on the TV and seeing what he understands with his little skills.

Donghyuck calls him as the sun starts to dip down the sky, like an orange billiard ball sliding towards it's home pocket and Jeno blinks blearily at his phone before he picks up.

"Aren't you supposed to be on tour or something?"

"Hello to you too," Donghyuck says, amused. "No, I'm back in Seoul for a while — we're done with touring for now. How's China?"

"Cold," Jeno sniffs. "But pretty. I'm back at the hotel for now."

"Oh," Donghyuck sings, drawing out the tone. "How exciting, lying in wait for your lover."

Jeno flushes hot, all the way down to the tip of his toes. "He's not my — I'm not lying in wait!" He splutters.

Donghyuck laughs, chiming and high and in the background, Jeno hears a snicker. "Is that Jaemin?" He demands, scrambling upright and he hears Jaemin laughing outright.

"Give me the phone," he hears Jaemin say and then there's a scuffle and then Jaemin is speaking.

"How are you, Jeno-Jeno," Jaemin croons, excessively sweet, so sweet it bakes the back of Jeno's teeth hurt as if he'd bitten into a cube of sugar.

Jeno makes a face at his bedsheets. They, unsurprisingly, do not respond. "I've only been gone a day — less than that anyway. Are you missing me that much?"

"Can't live without you," Jaemin says, still in that sickly sweet tone before it changes abruptly. "We just called to make sure you're ready."

"Ready?" Jeno echoes. "Ready for what?"

"For tonight, you idiot," Donghyuck calls. "For getting rid of that pesky virginity of yours."

Jeno stills. He hadn't deluded himself, of course, that it wasn't going to happen; he quite desperately _wanted_ it to happen, _wanted_ it to be Chenle but... But it hadn't seemed so black and white, so... In his face until this moment. Until it had been said to him, so starkly. Donghyuck and Jaemin seem to take note of his silence because there's a couple of beats and then Jeno hears the distant sound of a door shutting and then some shuffling before Donghyuck speaks again.

"Jeno," he says gently, tone oddly serious. "Jeno, you know that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, right? Chenle won't push you, and you should give yourself that same kindness."

"I know," Jeno says. His voice sounds strangled to his own ears and he winces.

"What did you go to China for?" Jaemin asks abruptly.

Jeno blinks, thrown off. "Too see Chenle?"

"Yeah and to have fun with him," Jaemin says. "So just do that. Enjoy that and don't stress about anything else."

Jeno feels his cheeks flush again and he looks down at his free hand, fiddles with a thread that had come loose from the stitching. "What if —" he starts haltingly and then pauses. The words are deeply humiliating but he doesn't know who else he would even ask if not these people, if not his family. "What if I want to and — and it's not... _Good._ "

Jaemin laughs a little though it's not mocking. "Jeno," he says gently. "Do you think anyone's first time is good?"

"Mine was," Donghyuck says staunchly and Jaemin's eye roll is entirely audible.

"We're trying to help _Jeno_ , right now," he points out. "Not make him feel worse."

"He's not going to feel worse about me having good sex, are you Jeno?"

Jeno sighs. "Can you say something useful or just hang up and let me wallow in my thoughts?"

"No, because that's not what good friends do," Donghyuck says cheerfully.

"It doesn't matter if it's not good," Jaemin says finally, cutting over Donghyuck. "Jeno, seriously. All that matters is that you have a nice time and that you're _ready_. Chenle is so into you, he'll just be happy to be with you — in whatever capacity."

Jeno sighs and lets himself flop backwards. His head hits the soft pillow and he stares up at the adorned ceiling of his hotel room. "I'm overthinking this."

"Yes. You are," Jaemin says staunchly.

"Don't psyche yourself out," Donghyuck adds softly. "Just take Chenle out for dinner, have fun on your date, and enjoy your little holiday."

"Okay," Jeno says, sighs again. "Okay."

"Have fun," Jaemin sings. "Love you, Jeno-yah."

"Mm you too," Jeno says, a smile finally appearing on the ends of his mouths as the call ends.

When Youngjae finally texts him that Chenle has arrived at his hotel room, Jeno's heart starts hammering loudly in his chest, anticipation and anxiety tingling down his body until the ends of his fingertips. It's just Chenle but it's _Chenle_. It's the one thing Jeno has wanted for a very long time — the one thing he's wanted as badly as he's ever wanted anything else, including his debut. Chenle isn't _just_ anything.

Not when it comes to this. Not to Jeno.

Chenle's hotel is only seven floors up above Jeno's — he doesn't want to explore too closely if it might be a little creepy that he's ended up in the same hotel like a fan — but the ride up seems to take forever, the pressure building in Jeno's chest.

He finds Chenle's room easily enough and then Jeno just... Stands there. He means to knock, he _wants_ to see Chenle so badly but for some reason the fear starts to overtake him. Before Jeno can let his mind start to overthink _again_ , he raises his hand and knocks sharply, twice on the door and then stands back so that he's visible through the peephole.

It takes a couple of seconds and then Jeno hears Chenle's footsteps on the other side of the door and then a pause and then, without warning, the door flies open so violently, it slams into the wall loudly.

Chenle is standing in front of him, styled hair ruffled around his face and his eyes wide, pink lips open in shock. "Hyung?" He demands.

"Hi," Jeno says breathlessly, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. "Hey."

Chenle stares at him. "What... What are you doing here?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as Jeno feels.

Jeno swallows hard around the block in his throat. "Well I... I missed you," he says and that's all he manages because Chenle's hand has closed around Jeno's shirt and yanked him inside. Jeno just registers the slam of the door behind him — too loud, they're going to get complaints — before Chenle's mouth is covering his, swallowing his silent gasp up, licking it up with his tongue, kissing Jeno with fervor. Jeno's hands hover uselessly in the air for a moment, a heart rendering, time stopping moment, because Chenle is kissing him like he's going to cease existing, like there's an asteroid hurtling towards the Earth, burning up in the atmosphere, intent on wiping them out.

Then Chenle sinks his teeth into his lower lip and Jeno's brain snaps into motion and he responds, with just as much intensity, hands closing around the small of Chenle's back, fisting in his shirt and yanking him towards Jeno, as if they aren't already plastered together.

"Fuck, hyung," Chenle groans and it's almost unrecognisable, how low his voice has gotten, how guttural it sounds as he presses into Jeno.

Jeno makes an embarrassing noise in return and tries not to sag against the door, even though his knees have turned completely into jelly, his brain swimming somewhere in his stomach, turned to mush.

If you had told him before, if you had showed him a reel of what was happening a _month_ ago, of him being pinned against the door with the most fantastic kiss of his life, Jeno wouldn’t have believed you. Would have laughed a little and walked away because _this_ was so far outside the realm of possibility, it crossed into complete incredulity.

And yet, here he is, a dizzying 28 floors somewhere over Beijing, being kissed breathless by _Chenle_.

Then Jeno remembers exactly what he’d come here for and his hands grip Chenle’s waist, pushing him back a little. “Dinner,” he gasps, his breath tripping out of him unevenly, opening his eyes. The sight that greets him sends him reeling, and if the door hadn’t been there behind him, Jeno would have fallen. Chenle’s mouth is bitten plum red, puffy and glossy and there’s a flush high on his cheeks, poinsettias blooming along the sharp curve of his cheekbones. He looks like a dream Jeno had never dared allow himself to have.

“What?” Chenle says, confused, and Jeno realises he’s just staring at Chenle wordlessly.

“Dinner,” Jeno repeats after a beat. “I came — I wanted to have dinner with you.”

“Dinner,” Chenle echoes and Jeno is completely unable to tear his eyes away from him. “You flew to a different country to have dinner with me.”

Jeno swallows. He definitely sounds like a creep. “Yeah,” he says. “I did.”

Chenle’s eyes darken, just the tiniest bit and then he’s kissing Jeno all over again, just as furious, just as hard, his hands cupping Jeno’s cheeks, and Jeno feels like he’s something precious, cradled in Chenle’s warm grasp.

“Hyung,” Chenle whispers, pulling away after what feels like hours but is probably just a very long twenty minutes.

Jeno, dazed, doesn’t open his eyes right away. Chenle’s hands are so warm and they’re sliding down his chest. “Hmm?” He hums instead of trying to form actual words. His lips are tingling and his mouth feels too big for his face, like it’s untethered to the rest of his body, just belonging to Chenle now. He’s sure if he tried to touch it right now, it wouldn’t be there.

Chenle toys with Jeno’s shirt and there’s a beat where Jeno can audibly hear him swallow. “Can — can I?”

 _That_ makes his eyes flash open and his heartbeat ratchets up automatically. “You… You mean?” Jeno asks, barely audible.

Chenle looks just as scared as he feels. Though scared isn’t the right word, not really. It’s anticipation that’s hammering at Jeno’s ribcage, like there’s a woodpecker nestled atop his lungs, trying to get out. Heavy and thick, sap pouring out between the chipped wood.

“No,” Chenle blurts. “We can go to dinner — I just wanted —” He blows out air, obviously frustrated for a moment.

“I want to,” Jeno blurts before Chenle can backtrack and this moment vanishes, a mirage shimmering and shimmering and then disappearing in a wisp before reaching fingers can grab onto it. Chenle’s staring at him, mouth open a little and Jeno forces himself to repeat the words. “Chenle, I want to — to have _sex with you_.” The last three words fail a little, more breath than actual sound but Jeno’s proud he even managed to push them out. Especially when he has Chenle standing mere inches away from him, looking like _that_.

“Really?” Chenle asks, a tone of wonder curling around the edge of his voice. “Are — are you sure?”

“Yes,” Jeno says and he’s surprised to find it rings true. “Yeah, I’m — I’m completely sure.”

The way Chenle smiles at him robs what his lung of what little breath it had managed to hold on to.

Jeno's bravery lasts until he’s sitting on the bed, like the sheets suck whatever confidence he had mustered up right out of his skin, parasitic and fear inducing.

“We don’t have to do this,” Chenle says, able to read Jeno’s mind like he’s a newsreel being played out in Times fucking Square.

Jeno doesn’t even bother with a verbal response, just digs in his pants pockets and wordlessly pulls out the lube and condoms he’d dithered over for a very embarrassing thirty minutes in his room and puts them on the bed. “I want to,” he says simply, looking up at Chenle, meeting his gaze, eye to eye, and that’s that.

He doesn't know what he's expecting, exactly, but the fucking _rush_ of adrenaline that swoops down his belly, like he's at the tip of a roller coaster, just waiting to plummet down, hits him completely out of the blue when he feels Chenle's hand toy at the tie to his sweatpants.

"Still okay?" Chenle asks, kissing Jeno one more time, soft and lingering and Jeno has to force himself not to twine his fingers in Chenle's soft hair and tug him down for another kiss.

"Yeah," he breathes instead, the end of it coming out shakily, trembling like a whole note, held for too long. "I'm okay."

Chenle's breath washes over him, sweet and minty and he sighs, kissing Jeno again. "You tell me if you want to stop. Anytime."

Jeno nods, unable to speak any longer as Chenle slowly draws his pants off. He's been naked around Chenle, around _all_ of them really, more times than he'd care to think about, but it feels so different now. In this stillness, not the rush and clamour of a backstage dressing room with twenty seconds left before the next song starts up. Right now it's just the two of them, in the quiet, broken up only by the stutter of Jeno's breath when Chenle's fingers brush against sensitive spots on his legs, thighs, stomach, that he didn't even know existed.

He wonders if this is what it felt like, by the kings and queens of old, to look down and know they were worshipped. To know they had the whole world at their feet, ready to collapse the skies for them, to bring down heaven at the twitch of a finger, at a silent command. Chenle worships him like this, slowly, intensely, dragging his mouth, fingers, hands, all over the parts of Jeno no one had ever touched before — not like this, not soft and wanting, the song of careful desire sung out in every shift of his expression, the press of his lips to the sharp point of Jeno's hipbone, to the bruises he'd collected from practice.

"Hyung," Chenle mouths, pressing a final kiss to the inside of Jeno's left knee. When Jeno looks down at him, his breath vanishes, snatched out of his lungs by the bottomless dark of his eyes. There’s a terribly soft curl of devotion in his tone, that Jeno can't help but blush at, feeling heat sweep down until his toes curl at the weight of the words that hang in the air between them. "I've waited for this for so long."

And Jeno lets himself fall. Lets all of his worries follow his breath, vanish out the closed window into the shimmering night lights. Lets Chenle guide him exactly where he needs to go.

It hurts. Jeno had known it would, had braced himself for it, but he still flinches a little when Chenle pushes two fingers into him, lube dripping onto the inside of his thighs.

"You've really never done this before?" Chenle asks softly, though he retreats a little when he notices the scrunched up expression on Jeno's face.

"No," Jeno whispers. "Never really thought about it."

"Well," Chenle says. "I'm honoured, hyung." He plays it off with a little laugh but Jeno sees the flash of sincerity in his eyes, the way he ducks his head to let his hair cover his gaze.

Jeno sits up halfway, balancing himself on one elbow and reaches for Chenle with the other hand, cupping the nape of his neck. "I am too," he says gently because this is important. It's important that Chenle knows just _exactly_ how much this means. That it's _him_ here, with Jeno. "I'm glad it's you."

Chenle looks at him with wide eyes and then blushes. "Ah, hyung," he says, pushing Jeno back, hand on his chest. "Don't get sappy with me when I'm trying to fuck you."

"Don't be sappy at me then," Jeno teases, with a little laugh and Chenle scoffs.

"Like I'm ever," he mutters, busying himself with the lube and Jeno lets him, the smile drawing over his face impossible to push down. He hadn't expected to lose his virginity like this, but right now, at this vantage point, there's no other way he would have it.

His fingers automatically clench in the sheets when things really start moving along, four of Chenle’s fingers buried deep in him, pressing rhythmically against his prostate, a sensation that Jeno had never felt before and regrets _not_ having done so. His thigh are trembling with every shift of Chenle’s fingers and his throat is dry and Jeno feels like his head is about to spin off his neck. He tips his head back to the decorated edges of ceiling, panting heavily as Chenle's fingers, press deeper and deeper into him, his mouth turned to the inside of Jeno’s thigh, the ghost of a smile wafting hot air over the sensitive skin there.

"How are feeling?" Chenle asks, punctuating the question as he pulls his fingers gently out.

Jeno winces at the emptiness and tries not to shift too much, a whine threatening to slip out the back of his throat. “Go — good,” he pants, swallowing around a dry throat. His cock is dripping onto his hip and he feels stretched thin but in the best way possible. “It’s a _lot_.”

Chenle laughs a little. "Then you're really not prepared for what's coming next, hyung."

"Are you making a big dick joke?" Jeno asks. "Right now? Like, at this moment?"

Chenle giggles and swivels around to find the condoms lost in the sheets. "Had to lighten the mood, a little."

"The mood's great," Jeno says, his voice unintentionally softening when Chenle's hands wrap around his thighs, warm and a little sticky from the lube, pulling him closer.

Chenle meets his eyes and Jeno revels in the small blush that still hasn't faded from his cheeks, that strengthens whenever Jeno looks at him. "Good," he says and Jeno smiles, the fondness welling up in him like a bubble, rising from his stomach to the top of his throat, popping like fizzy candy in the back of his mouth, just as sweet as Chenle had tasted.

"Okay," Chenle says, prodding Jeno to push his hips up so he can slide a pillow under them and then bracing his hands on either side of Jeno's waist looking at him intently. "We can stop at any time," he says gently as if Jeno is something breakable, something precious, something to be cradled delicately. As if he hadn't endured years of challenges and hard work, as if he hadn't left half his body in blood and tears all the way back in Seoul, on the gilded floors of SM's practice rooms.

As if he were dear. To Chenle.

"Chenle," Jeno says, feeling something catch in the back of his throat. "If you don't fuck me in the next five seconds, I swear, I — I don't know _what_ I'm going to do but it will not be pretty."

Chenle laughs, the moment shattering into sparkles of light around them, shimmering down and lighting Jeno's skin on fire. "How threatening," he says but he rips the foil off the condom anyway and Jeno settles back into the sheets, mollified.

"Ready?" Chenle asks a couple of moments later, his expression verging on faintly nervous as he braces himself over Jeno, thumb rubbing circles into the divot of his hip.

Jeno takes a deep breath. "I'm ready," he says instead of the words clamouring at the tip of his tongue. Instead of _I like you so much it's unbelievable to me._ Instead of _I can't believe you're here with me, you're willing to do this with me._ Instead of _I think I might be close to falling in love with you and isn't that the most terrifying thing you've ever heard?_

When Chenle pushes in, all of the air pushes out of Jeno's chest in a slow _whoosh_. It's almost like an out of body experience, feeling the push of Chenle inside, the press of his body against Jeno's, sure in it's steadiness.

"Move," Jeno murmurs after a moment of drawn out stillness, like a tightrope walker on the edge of the rope. "You can move."

Chenle's watching him, eyes dark and comforting and he slowly draws back, dragging his cock out slowly, with more control than Jeno expects. Jeno fumbles for his hand, letting the weight of it pushing his hand back into the sheets, tightening his fingers around Chenle's.

"You look so good, hyung," Chenle whispers, eyes dragging up his body. Jeno flushes under the words, under the absolute sincerity in his tone and his gaze. "I can't believe you're — you're here."

He rolls his hips again and all over again, Jeno loses his breath, feeling dazed as his heartbeat picks up.

"I can't believe it either," he whispers just as Chenle increases his pace, slowly, slowly. Always slowly. Always carefully. As if Jeno is precious.

The world washes away, bit by bit and Jeno bites back a moan when Chenle pushes into him, pinning him to the bed. It slowly starts to hit him, as the discomfort and the mild embarrassment at being so vulnerable in front of another person fade; the pleasure slowly starts to take over and Jeno feels it in his gut, and he clenches experimentally around Chenle. Chenle groans, louder than Jeno was expecting and his hips snap in, hard and sudden and an echoing moan slips out of Jeno, helpless and wanting.

"Fuck," Chenle grits and his hands come up to pin Jeno's hips down, as his hips slam against Jeno's, the sound of the slapping loud and serving to stoke the fire in Jeno's cheeks.

"Chenle," Jeno gasps, hands restlessly moving on the sheets. He doesn't know how to catalogue all of the sensations, the way his skin feels like it's on fire, the drag of Chenle's cock inside him. It feels unbelievably good to be filled up like this and Jeno tentatively rolls his hips up, trying to feel _that_ again. It works; Chenle's mouth goes a little slack, pants spilling out of that pink petal mouth and his fingers tighten on Jeno's hips. Suddenly, Jeno can't wait to wake up to the bruises tomorrow morning, can't wait to see the evidence of what happened, of what they shared, indelibly pressed into his body. " _Fuck_ — _Chenle oh my god._ "

"I've got you, baby," Chenle says, and Jeno throws his head back, a whine escaping his mouth. Chenle draws back, slowing so that Jeno feels every inch of his cock before he slams back in, right against his prostrate and Jeno gasps, a strangled moan ripping out of the back of his throat.

"Fuck!"

"There we go," Chenle gasps, a smirk finally appearing on the curl of his mouth and Jeno is a little too distracted to notice what he’s doing until he feels his legs being pushed apart, thighs slung over Chenle’s, slipping off to land on the bed. Chenle grins down at him. “You look so gorgeous, hyung,” he whispers and the words, combined with the sharp rhythm he starts up, snapping his hips into Jeno, send fire blazing down his skin. "Can't believe you're mine."

Jeno wails a little, back arching off the bed, when Chenle hits his prostate again. He feels like he's inside a tornado, the world washing gray around him. "Chenle," he manages, the word sputtering out in a half whine. " _Please_ —"

Chenle's hand closes around his cock, dragging up slowly, a complete contrast to the way his cock is ramming into Jeno. It only takes half a dozen more thrusts, Chenle's fingers swiping up the weeping head of Jeno's cock for Jeno to come, his whole body twisting around, inside out, a shattered moan gasping out of him as he shoots all over himself. His head is spinning and he violently twitches when Chenle runs the flat of his palm over his head, sensitivity warring with the aftershocks.

Chenle slowly pulls out and Jeno can't help the noise that slips out of him. It feels strange to be so empty again. "Fuck," he whispers, and Chenle laughs, the noise brightening up the room by degrees.

"You say the sweetest things, hyung," he says, stripping off the condom and flinging it in the trash before cupping Jeno's face with slightly sticky fingers and looking down at him fondly. "You good?"

"Yeah," Jeno breathes, relaxing into the sheets. His whole body feels heavy, weighed down like there's a heavy blanket draped over him. Then he blinks, remembering. "Oh, you—"

"Don't worry about it," Chenle says but Jeno shakes his head, insistent, propping himself up.

"I might be a virgin, but even I know that's bad etiquette," he says and Chenle laughs again, louder. It brings a smile to Jeno's lips, flowers blossoming in his lungs, making him feel lighter all of a sudden.

"Not anymore," Chenle whispers against his mouth and Jeno drinks his smile in greedily. When Chenle comes, he tastes sweet, feels warm, looks like a gift, heaven sent, and glowing with the glory of a god Jeno's very quickly beginning to believe in.

Dinner is at a roadside stall, buried in their thick winter coats, hats pulled down over their eyes and masks pulled up. They're technically not supposed to have left the hotel without supervision but Jeno is floating two inches above the ground and Chenle is holding his hand, tethering him to this Earth before he floats away. He can do anything, like this.

"Thank you for coming," Chenle says, almost shyly, when they get their food, hunching over the warm bowls to soak what little heat they can.

Jeno smiles at him and it comes so easily. Just like everything with Chenle has. "I'm glad I did. I was going a bit crazy without you."

Under the table, Chenle hooks his foot around Jeno's ankle and reels him in and Jeno lets him.

This was worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment if you liked it 💖
> 
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